


You Know I Talk Too Much

by scratchesdownyourback (orphan_account)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Puts Up With It, Eddie's Mum Sucks, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Shot, Richie Will Not Shut Up, Slightly Aged up, Takes Place In 1992, kind of a song fic i guess?, they're 16, they're in high school, until he doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 01:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20752397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/scratchesdownyourback
Summary: Richie takes his best friend Eddie to the opening of the new record shop in town, being his usual self all the while - incredibly loud, never shutting up.Eddie puts up with the verbal diarrhea, until he doesn't.





	You Know I Talk Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by COIN's song Talk Too Much! Give it a listen and tell me it doesn't make you think of Reddie!

  
_May 1992_

“Eds! Eddie!”, Richie yelled across the hallway, one arm raised to a wave, making his way through the tightly crowded space towards the closing locker of Eddie Kasprak.

Eddie looked up at the call, searching the faces around him for the one the voice belonged to - finding himself successful, of course, after only a split second. Richie stood out to him from anywhere, in spite of his only _slightly_ above average height and lanky frame. This was due to the coke bottle glasses he still hadn’t replaced with a more up-to-date model; they made his eyes seem cartoonishly large, leaving him somewhat reminiscent of a turtle. His unruly black curls, always appearing in dire need of a haircut, were the cherry on top of the attention-grabbing, noisy mess of a sundae.

“Hey Rich!”. Eddie just looked at the other boy patiently, knowing he never needed an extra invitation to start elaborating on whatever it was that was currently occupying his mind.

“Did you hear about the new record shop opening on the other side of town today? _Vinyl Beach_ it’s meant to be called, or something like that anyway. I saw a flyer of theirs around school earlier - hold on, I think I actually grabbed one for you.”, he slid his backpack off one shoulder and around his side, rustling through it and halting the monologue momentarily, until he found what he was looking for. “Here! See, they sell all kinds of shit, like Culture Club and Cindy Lauper and all that pop-y junk you like, but also Guns N’ Roses and the Stones and shit, for me! I was gonna pay ‘em a visit after school, ya wanna tag along?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and snatched the flyer from the other boy’s grip. “I don’t just listen to _pop-y junk_, asshole.” He let his eyes roam across the paper for a second before nodding in agreement. “Sure, I’ll join you. But I’ll have to be home before my mom gets off work.”

“Eddie, everyone knows you’re the biggest ABBA fan in the whole school, if not all of Derry. Meet you in the parking lot at 2:30! On the dot! Don’t be late!”, he said, walking off, as though Eddie wasn’t notoriously early to everything, and he himself wasn’t notoriously late.

Richie had been the first of the Losers to get his own car, which was in part due to him being the most stubbornly willing to do anything it took to scrape the funds together, and party because he had the lowest standards out of all of them and had jumped on the first cheap offer he could find the day he turned 16.

This left him with a car that wasn’t a looker, nor anything to show off in the technical department, but one he was proud to call himself the owner of nonetheless.  
He seized every opportunity he could find to smugly chauffeur his friends around - which were usually reduced to the first half of the month since he regularly ran out of gas money after that.

It was next to said car that Richie waited for Eddie to exit the backdoors of the school. He wasn’t the first to be anywhere often, so when the other boy finally came into sight at 2:31 pm, just one minute after the agreed-upon meeting time, Richie was only seconds from bursting into an overdramatic lecture about betrayal and tardiness.

“Shut up, Richie, save it. I had to call my mom’s work from the school’s phone to let her know where I’m going.”, Eddie huffed before his friend could even begin.

Richie opened his arms and furrowed his brows in a gesture of confusion. “I thought you wanted to get back before she got home anyway? And what school phone are you even talking about? The one in the secretary’s office? Did you just march in and tell them you had to call your mommy? And they just let you do that? Do you have your mom’s work number memorized?”

Ignoring the other boy’s rambling, Eddie opened the passenger door of the car, got in and slammed it shut after himself. He pointedly began rummaging through the tape collection in the glovebox, knowing Richie hated nothing more than letting someone else select the music in his car.

This got Richie to quickly quiet down and race to the driver’s seat. “No way, Kasprak! Today’s a The Kinks kinda day! They’re absolute fucking classics, Eddie, you can’t deny that. I hope when they release a new album, if they ever do, I can get it at the new record store!”

“Don’t forget to put your seatbelt on.”, Eddie said over the starting tones of _Do It Again_.

“Sure thing, mom!” Richie turned the music up as they left the parking lot.

“Shut up.”

“Make me!”, Richie replied cheerfully.

Eddie always wondered why he even bothered playing the music so loud if he was just gonna have to strain his voice talking over it the whole time. Because, as always, like clockwork, he did.

“You know, today in English when Campbell was talking about some stupid mistakes she saw while grading the tests - how much you wanna bet some of those were mine. God, that bitch just loves to make people feel shitty about themselves. She’s one of those people where you’re like, why the fuck did you even bother becoming a teacher in the first place when you fuckin’ hate working with kids so much, you soupy bitch!”. Richie shook his head in annoyance. “I mean, to be fair, I didn’t study or try particularly hard for a good grade, but she doesn’t have to be such a dick about it.”

Eddie had helpfully turned the radio volume down a little bit during the last part of Richie's speech, leaving it sounding awkwardly loud, bouncing off the walls of the small car. Luckily, Richie had no sense of embarrassment about anything, ever.

“You never try, Richie. _And_ you don’t even know if she was talking about you in particular. And if she _was_, it’s not like everyone else knows.”

“Oh, look at you over there, _Señor Reasonable_.”. He grinned over at Eddie, clearly not taking the criticism to heart, going by the awful Spanish accent he was putting on. “Yeah, you got a point, I guess. Well, easier to not-try and fail than to try and fail and have to face up to the fact that you couldn’t do it even though you tried!”

A rare moment of genuine self-reflection for Richie Tozier.

“In any case, I’m glad I tried with your mom because it turned out I _could_ do her! Ah, set that one right up!”

Which he clearly couldn’t leave untainted.

“You’re gross, Richie.”, Eddie rolled his eyes.

“That’s _not_ what she said!” Laughing at his own joke, Richie turned into the driveway of the new record store.

A neon sign proclaiming _Vinyl Beach_ hung over the front door, surrounded by, out of all things, a handful of red balloons on each side.

“Tasteful decor.”, Richie pointed out sarcastically, trying to cover up the fact that the sight of the balloons made them both hurriedly avert their eyes and step a little closer together, afraid of the flood of uncomfortable memories that came with them.

Through the opening sliding glass door, they could hear the music that was playing inside.

“Dude, they’re playing Blondie!”, Richie excitedly exclaimed, the quiet moment of fear quickly forgotten. He hurried inside only to immediately start playing an invisible electric guitar like a maniac to the instrumental of _One Way Or Another_.

Lagging behind a little and blushing up to the tips of his ears, Eddie followed him, grateful that the store seemed pretty deserted. “Richie, for fuck’s sake, you’re being so embarrassing.” But even while he was trying to shrink himself a little in the hopes of maybe becoming invisible, he couldn’t completely keep a smile from creeping onto his face in spite of himself.

Richie grinned back at him, bright, beaming. Whenever he was trying to make Eddie laugh, the world around him seemed to fade to grey, becoming completely irrelevant and secondary to whatever scheme he had currently thought of to entertain his friend. Sometimes, he thought he needed Eddie’s attention on him and the sound of his laughter more than he needed food to survive. Even though he couldn’t quite explain this behavior of his, he didn’t find any shame in it; he’d simply accepted it as a fact of his life, like that his parents didn’t really care what he got up to and that he wasn’t great at school and that Eddie’s eyes were really green.

And, although Eddie would never admit it in fear of inflating the taller boy’s ego, he truly appreciated Richie’s efforts to make him laugh. He never felt as invincible as he did when his friend was distracting him with one of his ludicrous bits or their bickering, never further from sickly or frail. Spending time with Richie made him feel _truly alive_; it was something he could sense throughout his body, most of all in his heart.

“I don’t know why I still hang out with you.” Eddie walked past him, not dignifying him with another glance.

“Because I’m the light of your life!”, Richie exclaimed dramatically, spinning in a circle once before giving up on his little show and shifting his attention to the records.

The shopkeeper, a woman in her late twenties, who had watched the interaction with an amused smile on her face, went around her counter and approached the two.  
“Hi boys! I’m so happy to have you here on our opening day! To show our gratitude, here’s a coupon for each of you.” She handed them the small pieces of paper and winked. “They get you a pretty sweet ‘three for the price of two’ deal.”

“Thank you, Miss!”, Eddie said politely at the same time as Richie’s terrible fake-Southern “Much obliged, m’lady!”.

This earned him a small laugh from the shopkeeper and an eye-roll from Eddie.

“Help yourselves to some coffee or cake in celebration of our grand opening.”, she gestured towards a small table next to the register with a coffeepot and some cups on it, as well as a plate of pre-sliced red velvet cake.

“Fuck yeah, dude! This is quickly becoming my favorite place!”, Richie stormed towards the table, cheerfully pouring himself a cup.

The shopkeeper gave them another friendly smile and then retreated to the back of the store.

“You want some coffee, Eds? Or cake?”, Richie shouted over to his friend, who had busied himself with looking through some of the records.

“No, Richie, that stuff’s gonna give you diabetes. And caffeine isn’t good for you either, you know, not that you _need_ more energy.”

“Stop being a fuckin’ party pooper, Eds! Have some fun for once!”. He tossed a piece of confetti that had been lying on the table at him. “You find anything good yet?”

“Don’t know. I was kinda thinking about getting that Tori Amos record that’s been on the radio, but I haven’t spotted it yet.” He was starting to blush again, and of course, Richie picked up on it immediately.

“What's up, why’re you blushing like that? You aren’t still thinking about the whole pop-y junk thing I said, are you? You know I was just joking about that, right? I don’t actually judge you for what music you listen to, you know. I mean, I don’t really agree with that whole ‘if everybody liked the same things the world would be boring’ sentiment, because I think it’d actually probably just be a whole lot more peaceful, and everyone could jam to the same shit together. But there’s no fuckin’ shame in getting down to some, I don’t know, Madonna or whatever.”, he said casually, patting his friend on the back - wanting the sensation to linger, needing him to know he was being genuine.

Eddie gave him a small smile, secretly grateful for the reassurance and the kind gesture. “Thanks, Rich. I don’t actually like Madonna though, so don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried!”

“Yeah, yeah. And about the jamming to the same shit together thing, I do love me some Blondie.”, he added.

“You do? Then why were you being so uptight about the fuckin’ awesome performance I gave earlier?”, Richie said through a mouthful of cake.

“Because it wasn’t awesome whatsoever.”, Eddie replied dryly, moving onto a different section of records.

“Was too!” Richie followed him like he was magnetic, leaning against a display nearby. He had barely looked at any records yet, too distracted by the friend he brought along. It didn’t bother him too much, though.

When Iron Maiden’s _Wasting Love_ came on, he began humming along happily, finally turning to skim through some of the boxes himself.

“Oh, nice! They have the new Def Leppard record! I was thinking about getting this one. Have you listened to it? Well, it probably wouldn’t be your thing anyway. But maybe you’ve heard some of the songs on the ra-“, he interrupted himself as the final chorus of Wasting Love came on and suddenly began singing and dramatically gesturing along with his whole body instead. “_Spend your days full of emptiness! Spend your days full of loneliness!_ Oh, Eds, I found your Tori Amos thing!”

Eddie looked at his friend incredulously. The words that were suddenly at the forefront of his mind and on the tip of his tongue - it seemed to happen all at once, but he knew they’d been simmering there for a while - were _‘Holy shit, I think I’m in love with you’_, but he made himself say something else instead.

“Richie, you talk so fucking much, you just interrupted yourself _twice_. Do you even notice anymore?”

Richie brushed him off with a wave of his hand, unable to hide that this time, a blush was forming on his cheeks too. “Oh, you love it.”

He did.

“I do not.”

Richie continued to hum along with the song that was playing.

They ended up using only one of the coupons and splitting it; Eddie getting the Tori Amos record for himself, Richie picking the new Def Leppard one, and then they decided on an old Blondie vinyl to trade back and forth.

“Man, what a deal! And free coffee too! The cake was great Eddie, you really missed out!”, Richie stated happily as they were getting back into the car.  
“You gotta play the Tori Amos one for me, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of her before. But if you enjoy her shit, I gotta at least give her a fair shot, even if your track record isn’t exactly spotless when it comes to taste in music.”

“I thought you just sai-“

“Joking! Joking.” Checking the side mirrors, he drove back onto the empty road, a mixtape he had made a few months prior quietly playing from the speakers. “Now I gotta take you home right away, or what?”

“Yeah.”, Eddie sighed, “You know my mum. She thinks if I stay out past five on a school night without letting her know at least three days in advance, I’m pretty much a criminal and a lost cause.”

“And then there goes your spot as the valedictorian”, Richie added, his voice comically breaking for dramatic effect. “God forbid you have some fuckin’ fun sometimes, Eddie. I mean, I know it’s not your fault or choice or anything, and hell, I guess it’s pretty admirable that you put up with all her shit. But I still think, you know, rebel a little sometimes.” He put his hand on Eddies in the center console and squeezed it, to emphasize that he was just trying to be friendly and caring -and because he wanted to.

Eddie snorted, his voice defeated in spite of the way his heart fluttered at Richie’s touch. “And how exactly would I do that? You know how she keeps tabs on me. She punishes me for the littlest things by locking me indoors and keeping me from you guys, behind the cover of being ‘concerned’ and ‘worried’ for me. I’d rather just follow her stupid rules and stay out of all that trouble.”

When they stopped at a red light, Richie threw his hands up above his head in exasperation and looked intensely at his friend on the passenger seat. “But you could’ve eaten the cake, Eddie! You could’ve had some fucking coffee! You didn’t have to call her work to let her know you’d _still be home before her_! You’re following her fuckin’ rules even when you _don’t_ have to, and aren’t you punishing yourself with that? You’re denying yourself the small, beautiful pleasures of life like free cake, because she made you afraid of them! But Eddie, you _know_ there are worse things to be afraid of. You know life doesn’t work like that! You don’t get to live happily ever after and without interruptions if you just avoid all the sugar and chemical additives and caffeine in life, because a fuckin’ alien killer clown might come and eat you just for the hell of it, before you even get to enjoy any of your super healthy long life! You deserve to enjoy life, Eds! Hell, do you even know if you _like_ coffee? Have you ever even tried it? I just want you to get to eat the cake!”

A sudden silence fell between them. It felt all-consuming. Electric, somehow.

“The cake was meant to be a metaph-“, Richie started again.

“I know.” They stared at each other. “The light is green.”

“Your eyes are green.”, He retorted before he could stop himself. “No, I mean-“

“I know.”, Eddie repeated. “Shut up.”

“Make me-“, Richie began automatically.

And so, Eddie did. He leaned over the center console, crossed the distance between them and finally made Richie Tozier shut the hell up. By kissing him.

While the initial decision to make the move had been little more than a thoughtless reflex, he heard a thousand pieces quietly fall into place all at once when he felt Richie’s lips move against his. And the wish for silence surely didn’t count for an excuse anymore when Eddie attempted to pull the other boy closer by gripping onto his hair, which coaxed a small “Mmpf” from his busy lips. It almost sounded like a moan, so Eddie pulled it again, getting a clearer response this time. He felt breathless and weightless and everything all at once when he sucked the other boy’s bottom lip into his mouth as though it was oxygen.

“Fuck!”, he heard Richie groan softly against his lips.

“Shut _up_!”, he replied desperately, kissing him harder.

A car honking behind them finally made them jump apart and remember that they were still in a car, parked at a traffic light on an open road.

“Shit!”, Richie exclaimed, hurriedly starting the car and driving away.

“You talk too much.”, Eddie said, panting.

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh hi! Thanks for reading this far! Here's an obligatory "English isn't my first language" declaration, plus I'm too ashamed to send any of my friends gay fanfiction to proofread, so that'll probably explain any embarrassing mistakes. Don't hesitate to point them out to me though, I'll be happy to fix them.


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